Lionheart
by Sango
Summary: A man who constantly exhorts the value of peace and love to a world that only wants his death finally hears the words spoken back to him. After the end of the anime. One-shot.


Lionheart 

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It was a long walk back. 

Normally the added weight of my brother's completely slack body would have taken very little effort to carry, but our final battle had taxed my strength almost to the point of total exhaustion, and the twin suns beat down on us mercilessly. In spite of the heat and the leaden tiredness in my limbs, my heart was light. We two were together again. Knives was twisted, maniacal, not a little bit insane and well on his way to being completely evil. But I loved him, and he wasn't quite there yet. There was still that tiny spark of light, hidden deeply away in the core of his soul. Rem knew what he was, at the end, and she still loved him; I would have taken him with me for no other reason than that. 

I had no idea what to do with him now, I merely hoped that I could keep him out of trouble and somehow make him see that life was precious and worth cherishing. He ended it for others mercilessly and unrepentantly, and squandered his own with his consuming hatred and unmeritorious goals of conquest and annihilation. I didn't understand him. But I desperately wished that I'd be able to make him understand me. 

_You would kill everyone on this planet aside from us, my brother...would you really be happy then?_

_Happy?_ His mind whispered to mine, before sinking down again into oblivion. 

She was the first to see me, sprinting across the sand dunes as if she would jump into my embrace and lock her arms around my neck...but stopped some ten yarz away when she saw what I carried over my shoulder. Wrinkling her nose questioningly, she asked, "Is that him?" 

I nodded. "Meryl, meet Knives." 

Her damage-assessing eyes took in the bandages on his arms and legs, the absence of my coat. "Er, are you sure that this is a good idea?" Her tone implied that she did not, but also that she trusted me. 

I reached out as I approached her, dragging her into my chest with my free arm. "Not exactly a _good_ idea, I suppose...but I couldn't leave him there." She turned her face into my shirt a moment, not speaking, fists balled up against me as if she were trying to compose herself. I wished tiredly that she were just a bit taller, that I might rest my weary chin on her head. 

She looked up at me, after a while, bright crystal tears brimming the eyes that were sometimes silver-grey, sometimes pale violet. "I'm glad you came back." The husky timbre of her voice said much more than the words themselves. One broke loose and trailed down her pale cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb. 

"Me, too." 

Milly had joined us by then, clearing her throat. "Hi, Vash-san!" She smiled. "This must be your brother. He looks like you!" She stepped closer, holding out her hand. "Why don't you let me carry him the rest of the way? You look beat." 

I was kind of reluctant to hand him over, but he was out cold after all, and the tall woman was more than strong enough to haul him indoors. Whereas I was dead on my feet. "Thanks." 

Meryl took my hand, dragging me toward the house after Milly and Knives. "Let's go home." 

Inside, Milly deposited her burden gently on the single bed in my small room. We re-bandaged my brother's wounds and all sat staring at him afterward, at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. I yawned and stretched a bit. 

Milly broke the silence unexpectedly. "Vash-san, go to bed. I don't think he will be coming around anytime soon, but I'll watch him." I hesitated, then nodded and walked off to the bathroom. I head her say, "Sempai, you should see if he needs any help with bandages." Shortly afterward, there was a light knock on the door. 

"Vash?" 

Already shirtless, I let her in and allowed her to look me over, cleaning and bandaging what wounds I had. She had done so many times before, but tonight her light touch on my skin made me jump, igniting little shocks that traveled down my spine, burning along my nerves. Her proximity made my breath quicken, and I wondered when she had begun to have this effect on me, why I had never noticed... 

She smacked me lightly. "Stop squirming, you baka!" She gasped as I suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her against me from behind, her chest against my bare back. She stiffened, drawing in a breath which I could only assume would be used to yell at me, but then suddenly she relaxed against me, her warm breath an intolerable sensation on my neck and ear as she exhaled. 

"Vash?" 

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He sat there, his grip on my arm tight almost to the point of being painful, his head down and face in shadow. I couldn't make out his expression at all. His shoulders hitched, and my heart twisted suddenly as I realized that he was crying. Well, Vash cried all of the time, but rarely as earnestly as this. I drew his hand over his head, coming around so that I could see him, kneeling in front of him. I don't know if he drew me in or if I went to him, but we ended up with our arms around each other and his head buried in my neck. I had no idea what it was that troubled him, but I offered what little comfort I could. 

Then, abruptly, he held me at arm's length, his verdant eyes suddenly hard and closed off. I would have thought the tears a figment of my imagination if there weren't still traces drying on his face, and my shirt. "I want you and Milly to leave." 

Confused, I started, "But, why--" 

"Please! Just go. He is likely still dangerous...I have to stay with him, but I couldn't bear it if anything happened to one of you. If something else happened because I refused to kill my opponent..." 

I shut him up with a finger. "Vash." He stopped talking, but his eyes bored holes in me. "You did what you thought best, as you always have. I wish, somehow, that you could see that, and forgive yourself for the choices you still torment yourself with. But the man I know would never have killed his own brother. You have done what you had to." Settling back on my heels, I continued, "He might somehow turn over a new leaf, or he might try to kill us all." Shifting forward suddenly, I poked a furious finger into his chest and raged, "but if you think I am ever going to let you out of my sight again, you had better think again!" 

And then I kissed him. 

I don't know which of us it surprised more, but I soon forgot to think about it as his arms clenched tightly around me, crushing me against his bare chest, tangling his fingers in my hair and surrounding me with his burning warmth. He kissed me as if he'd been dying of thirst alone in the desert and had just stumbled into an unexpected oasis, with a desperate passion that set my whole being aflame in response. My hands traced over his skin heatedly but gently, mindful of the many wounds that marred it, both old and new. My heart felt so full I thought it would burst. I loved him with everything that I had, this gentle man who suffered so much to avoid bringing death to anything, even to those who would have him dead. He had so much love for everything. 

After a time, and over my protests that he not overexert himself, he scooped me up off of the floor and carried me to the room that Milly and I shared. There was the smallest sound from the opposite direction, as if someone in the other room uttered a short, delighted laugh, but it was so faint that I couldn't be sure. 

I'd promised Milly that I'd tell him, when he got back. I'd promised, but my courage had failed when I first saw him again, pale and triumphant against the azure sky and desert sands. It was much easier now, in the semi-darkness, to look into the deep green eyes that should have been my first clue about this man who saw and cared and loved so much, and to tell him everything that lay in my heart, though the words themselves were short. 

"I love you." 

His breathing paused, and I reached up to touch the tiny mole under his eye. Often the bearer of such a mark was said to be destined for sadness...but I hoped desperately that there would be no more for him. 

He closed his eyes. "Meryl..." he breathed. "You are the first person to say that to me in a very long time." 

Yes. Rem had likely been the only one. Since then he had been hunted and feared and despised by most. Knives didn't seem the type to voice those feelings, if he had them. I felt a dart of pain, finally realizing just how much it might have hurt such a soft-hearted man, being hated and reviled by so many people, everywhere he went. 

He smiled and closed his arms again around me, drawing me to him, speaking in my ear. "I love you, too." 

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End 

Hope you liked it! Just something short for one of my favorite series. I love Vash :) 


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